Behind Ruins
by allonsysilvertongue
Summary: Behind the ruins of war, everyone has their struggles. Effie struggled to find her footing and Haymitch struggled with his new unexpected role as a father. In his desperation, he hired her to work for him, and in order to survive, she accepted.
1. Aftermath

**Chapter 1**

The end of the war was a period of rebuilding and relearning how to live. It was a period of adjustment to changes and adapting to a complete overhaul in the governing system. Written like that, it sounded easy enough to accomplish but life was not a package wrapped in a nice little bow. It was full of creases and Effie was finding herself trying to overcome even the smallest of hurdles as she struggled to pave her way.

In a country only recovering from the devastating effects of the war, unemployment was at an all-time high. Jobs were not easy to come by and today, Effie noted as she checked the calendar, was "Day 34" that she had failed to procure a job. At this point, Effie was not picky about the kind of jobs offered to her, as long as she was offered one. She needed the money to stand on her own two feet; to feed herself, to put clothes on her back, to continue having a roof over her head and most importantly, to survive.

Effie Trinket did not survive the Rebellion only to fade in despair because she couldn't find work to do.

It wasn't that President Paylor was ignorant of the problem. She was well-aware of it and had been fully brief with regards to the spike in unemployment hitting the country but there were more pressing matters to deal with. Thirty-four days after the Rebellion meant that the new government was still struggling to recover the bodies of those who perished during the battle from all across the districts. The government was still trying to clear the streets of corpses and rubbles, and bombs that were launched but failed to detonate in order to rebuild houses and shelters.

There was not much help from the authorities where job was concerned but still, Effie pressed on. She tried to find a job at a boutique and at an accounting firm but people were not interested in buying clothes and having their accounts looked at. Business was bad and hiring a new employee only added to unnecessary overhead cost. Effie tried a restaurant. Surely people have to eat. There was no position for a waitress either. She wouldn't mind becoming a dish washer if it meant getting paid. Her funds were already running low with the current inflation; bread costs twice as much now. People were begging for scraps of food in the streets of the Capitol. Supplies from the districts were not coming in as regularly now that the railroads were destroyed.

All of her skills and all of her qualifications meant nothing. She could live with that but Effie was finding it difficult to live with the constant judgment and prejudice thrown her way. She was acutely aware of how her past was affecting her now. The battle never truly ended for her. The prejudice was only the beginning. For the people in the Capitol, she was a traitor, and even if they don't view her as one, they were still wary of her involvement with the rebels. The rebels were not seen as saviours. They were seen as people who invaded their homes and destroyed the peace, and the carefully structured lifestyle they had built.

On the other hand, to the people from the districts who were here in the Capitol, Effie was an enigma. They had seen her as an escort for thirteen years on television and just because Haymitch Abernathy had seen fit to haul her to Thirteen, and just because she had stood by the Mockingjay during the course of the war, it did not mean that her past was erased – not entirely – and that she could start on a clean slate. They were mainly confused as to how to treat her, so they avoided her most of the time or kept to themselves. It made her feel alone.

Effie had no one in the Capitol. It dampened her spirit as she continued fighting to live and to move on until one afternoon, a phone call gave her an opportunity to move out and start somewhere.

XxX

Nothing fazed Haymitch Abernathy any longer. He had learnt to take news with a stoic expression. The only hint that he was shocked by what was currently happening was the small twitch on his left eye but even that went by unnoticed by the woman in front of him. _Effie would have been able to tell_, he mused to himself.

The bundle in front of him waved his hands and Haymitch stared at the eight months old toddler. His eyes shifted to the woman sitting on the worn out sofa in his living room.

"No," he pursed his lips. "You're asking the impossible."

It is uncommon for Capitol citizens to beg but this one did.

"Please," she pleaded, "you have to take him. I can't do it. It's not that I won't but I _can't_. You cannot possibly imagine how difficult life has been in the Capitol lately. _Your_ friends, the rebels and the district citizens, are not sympathetic to people like us. I have no means to care for him."

His gaze was unwavering but his fingers clenched tight the empty glass in his hand.

"What makes you think that I can?"

"You're in a much better position that I am at the moment. You still have… You still have this house. I live in a shelter with fifty other people in a small space. My house was destroyed and I have no job. I cannot care for our son or provide him what he needs."

A muscle in his jaw ticked at that word. _Our son._ He barely knew this woman. Her name was Lucia, she said, and though that sounded familiar enough, any memories he had of her were hazy in his mind.

The boy wriggled out of his mother's lap and crawled in Haymitch's direction. He watched him warily. When the child grabbed a fistful of his pants to use it as leverage in order to pull himself up, Haymitch went rigid.

"He wants to be carried," Lucia smiled, watching her son. "He's friendly with strangers. He won't cry if you pick him up."

Haymitch wasn't sure what compelled him to do it – he told himself that he didn't want the boy to topple and fall over – but he lifted the child under his arms, and brought him up until he was standing on Haymitch's laps.

The boy grabbed his hair and gave it a tug; his mouth fell open in an amused laugh. The sound was foreign to his ears and it was as if his old, dusty house had finally seen life again because the clouds parted and sunlight streamed in. The silvery grey eyes of the boy lighted up and Haymitch stared, transfixed at the child; a child that was apparently his.

"What's his name?" Haymitch croaked out. It would feel personal to know the child's name, it would make it real. Still, he never took his eyes off the toddler.

"Erasmus."

Haymitch wrinkled his nose. _How Capitol, _he thought. But Erasmus was just a baby and with his dirty blonde hair, grey eyes and the freckles on his nose, nobody could tell where he was from.

"He… He was born a few weeks after the Third Quarter Quell. The rebellion was underway. I had no way to tell you of him and I wasn't... I wasn't sure if I should."

"Probably wise," he shrugged. "Wouldn't be safe for him. When did I meet you? Victory Tour in the Capitol?"

She nodded.

The child had settled on his lap and was currently playing with his fingers which Haymitch found to be oddly distracting.

"I should have told you when I found out but… But was I to do? I was scared. I was carrying a bastard -" she heaved a breath, stopping herself just in time. "I couldn't take train to Twelve to tell you anyway. Travelling in between districts and Capitol was highly controlled and …. But I did ask around quietly to see if anyone has your home number but I was told that you don't answer phones. Then the Quell announcement came and you… Well, you were one of the tributes, you could be reaped and return to the arena. I knew then that I couldn't tell you. I shouldn't distract you from such an honourable opportunity to –"

Haymitch silenced her with a glare.

"My apologies," she said hastily. "I am truly sorry. I …It's difficult to think of the Games as wrong. We were told since young that -"

"Forget it," he said gruffly.

This was a conversation he had with Effie years before and he understood why Lucia was finding it difficult to think of the Games as anything but a slaughter. It took Effie six tributes and three years to realise the Games were wrong, another two years spent in denial because having her belief shattered wasn't an easy thing to accept.

"I'm begging you, please… Please take in your son. Give him a chance to live. I fear he may perish in the Capitol. He will be safer here. He will have a chance here. We have lost so many children during the war and just last week, a child was hurt at the shelter I was in. Children get rough when they play sometimes, and she was pushed down a stairs by a little boy from a district. He claimed it was an accident - perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't – I don't know."

"You think he'll be better off here?"

"I can barely feed myself," she added in a whisper.

"I ain't the best person to look after a kid. I ain't equipped to care for a child. I'm a drunk," he nodded at the bottles strewn on his floor. "I've got Katniss to look after, her appointed guardian."

"I understand but – "

"And you can't just come in here with a child in tow, sit there and tell me that I have a son I know nothin' about and then dump him on me," he growled, his voice getting increasingly louder.

Erasmus fidgeted and glanced back at his mother before he started crying. Lucia hurried forward, taking the boy from Haymitch.

"I was wrong to expect anything from you. I don't blame you but I thought you'd at least have some sympathy for him. He did nothing wrong," she said, holding the child protectively against her chest. "I'm sorry to impose. I truly am, and I do understand your reluctance. I apologise once again for assuming that you…"

Lucia trailed off and realising there was nothing else to say, turned around and made for the door.

Haymitch counted the seconds in his head after he heard the door close. _Thirty seconds._ He shut his eyes, saw the toothy baby grin and heard the ghost of the baby's chuckle.

_Two hundred and fifty seconds._

"Dammit," he cursed.

_I fear he may perish in the Capitol._

Haymitch pushed himself off the chair, his bones creaking from sitting on it for too long and hurried out the door. He saw her in the distance, nearly reaching the end of the parameter of the Victor's Village.

"Wait," he called out, shouting. "Wait."

Lucia stopped to glance back. She stood still waiting for him to catch up.

"I have money," Haymitch blurted out. "I could give you some."

The offer caught her off guard and she blinked. "Are you paying me off so that we won't ever bother you?"

"No, oh no," Haymitch said. He had not considered that his offer may be taken wrongly. "I just mean that you could use that money to … for him. I can give it to you every month. It ain't much but it'll be something."

"That… That'll do, I supposed. I guess if that is the best that you can do then I will take it. What about his safety?"

Haymitch had no answer to that. He had mulled it over and he knew that Twelve would be the safest place for the boy at the moment. Katniss had been sent back to Twelve, away from the Capitol, for her own safety. At times he thought, that was so that the public could forget her and her transgression -out of sight, out of mind – and by that logic, no one would bother Erasmus here either. He would be safe. He would have a house and some food. The shelter was not a place to raise a child.

The rest of Twelve was destroyed but there had been progress where the cleaning and clearing was concerned. There were not many amenities nearby but Twelve's survivors, proved that they were adept at surviving. There were enough food to go around the hundreds of them and they had become closer. He knew the survivors and he knew they would not harm the child unlike in the Capitol where there were still animosity between the rebel soldiers, the district civilians and the capitol residents.

XxX

Peeta Mellark had been spending hours of his time for the past two days in Haymitch's house doing nothing but keeping a watchful eye on the boy from a safe distance away. He claimed that it was calming to him, that there was something about babies that soothe him and Haymitch could not very well throw the boy out.

So Peeta sat on his hands at the edge of the sofa staring intently at Erasmus. He child blew bubbles from his mouth and Peeta smiled. Haymitch had not seen a smile so genuine on Peeta's face for a long while.

That was all Peeta did – he watch. He refused to hold the child or be anywhere near him simply because Peeta did not trust himself to regress into one of his episodes and harm someone so innocent.

"Best if I just watch from a distance," he had told Haymitch.

Haymitch rolled an old ball he had found in the attic towards the boy. It belonged to his brother and he guessed it was Erasmus' now. The boy seemed fond to crawl on his hands and knees chasing after the red ball.

"Katniss will like him," Peeta said out of the blue. "Wouldn't she?"

"Maybe," Haymitch shrugged. "Has she been out of the house at all today?"

"She came to stand by her bedroom window," he said, with a hint of a smile. "That's progress. Didn't you ask Greasy Sae about Katniss when she was here feeding Erasmus?"

"I asked if the girl had eaten, that's all."

"Haymitch," Peeta lifted his eyes to look at Haymitch. "I have an idea. I think it's a good one. You can't look after a baby on your own. I can't be of much help to you and Katniss isn't in the state of mind to be helping out either. You should get someone – hire someone who could care for your boy."

"Oh, yeah? And who might that be? Already got Greasy Sae comin' in an out to help out, that should be enough."

"I heard him crying yesterday night for hours," Peeta said quietly.

Haymitch looked away. That was true. Erasmus had cried on his first night in Twelve and Haymitch had no idea what to do except to bounce him awkwardly in his arms, desperately telling the boy that it would be okay when he himself wasn't sure if it would.

"He just needs adjusting," Haymitch mumbled.

"You can't do it alone," Peeta insisted. "I've been… I've been talking to Effie. We keep in touch and she's not in a good place right now. She said it's difficult in the Capitol – at least we know Lucia wasn't lying – and she's looking for a job."

Haymitch tilted his head to the side, waiting for Peeta to get to his point. He had not been keeping up with Effie, unfortunately, despite promising her that he would. But it's only been a month. She would have to excuse him.

"It's perfect! Why don't we hire her? Between your Victor's pay out and mine, we can afford Effie. We can negotiate some kind of satisfactory sum with her, I'm sure. She'll help if you explain your situation. Maybe having a woman around will be good for the baby, too."

It was a valid and serious proposition but Haymitch couldn't help laughing.

"Hire her to do what? She ain't exactly mother material, is she?"

"We can't know that. We haven't seen her with a baby but she's… She's all I had in Thirteen. She was as close to a mother as I can get and she was good to me. I want to help her anyway I can and all I can think of at the moment is this."

"So we're hiring her to be – what exactly? – a nanny?"

"It'll work out for you and her," Peeta insisted. "She needs a job and you clearly need someone to help you with Erasmus. That's an odd name, isn't it?"

"You're named after some kind of bread," Haymitch snorted, suddenly feeling defensive. "You don't get to talk."

Peeta grinned. "I think you should just give her a call, see what she says. You're due a call anyway. She often said that you've forgotten about her."

* * *

><p><em>Hello! This multi chapter story wandered into my head a few days back and I couldn't shake it off, so I began to write. I'm writing chapter four at the moment but I just wanted to know the reception to this before I continue further because well, it's another baby fic (I'm sorry!). <em>

_Thanks for reading and reviews are always a lovely thing to get :)_


	2. Calling Effie

_Thank you for all your reviews in the previous chapter! :)_

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 2<span>**

Haymitch didn't fall sleep naturally, not since he won his Games. He passed out – that was the only kind of sleep that his body got – but with Erasmus around, he couldn't even afford to pass out and his body was feeling the exertion.

The boy had only been here for three days but Haymitch was exhausted and bleary-eyed from the lack of sleep. The night after he had the talk with Peeta, Erasmus spent most of it crying again and when he wasn't crying, he was awake, crawling all over Haymitch to discover and explore the stranger that had been entrusted to care for him.

"Please, go to sleep," Haymitch muttered, lifting his head to look at the boy as he lay sprawled on his chest. "You don't like it here? Here's the best chance you've got, so, let's not make this hell for both of us."

Erasmus blinked at him as he sucked on his thumb.

When the sun rose the next morning, it was then that Haymitch concurred. He needed help. Haymitch paced the living room, walking up and down, in distress. He couldn't possibly ask Effie. He was sure that she would be as helpless as he would. He had never seen her with a toddler before, not that there were many opportunities for it during their years together, but it wouldn't do him any good to ask for her assistance if she was as clueless.

The crying startled him. One moment, Erasmus was crawling on the living room floor and the next he was sprawled on his back, his face contorted in pain as he wailed. A red mark was already beginning to form on his forehead and judging from where he was, the boy must have hit his head on the edge of the coffee table.

Haymitch lifted him up and patted his back, hoping that it would soothe him. He had witnessed his mother comforting his brother the same way when he was growing up except in his case, Erasmus was still crying.

_I can't do this. What the hell am I doing?_

Maybe Effie wasn't the best person to ask but she was among the few females whose presence he tolerated. Johanna, like Katniss and Peeta, was still healing. She was out of the question and Annie would soon be occupied with her own baby. Hazelle was the best choice. She possessed the necessary experience and she would know very well what to do with a crying baby. Haymitch would ask her but that would require him moving to Two or her to move back to Twelve, and neither was an option, which left him with Effie.

There was no surety that Effie would even accept his offer, no matter how desperate for a job she was. There was also the small matter of having to explain who Erasmus was to her. Haymitch wasn't sure how she would take it. He didn't cheat on her, at least, he didn't think so. They were not _together_, nothing exclusive and set in stone. They slept with each other occasionally when the pain of the Games drove them to seek comfort between the sheets and whatever it was between them, it happened more frequently while they were at Thirteen, something he couldn't really explain.

Thirteen was a complicated area altogether. They were gentle with each other and there were certainly moments of tenderness. Maybe it was because they each realised that they may not see through the war, he wasn't sure, but Thirteen happened after the Victory Tour. It happened after Erasmus was conceived.

There was never any talk about was going on between them. Effie was the only woman he wanted to take to bed, the only woman worth his time, a sentiment that he only started to realise when they were in Thirteen but one that he had never told her before. He was under the strong impression that she had been the only one for the last five years or so. He remembered every single time they were together - he was never drunk out of his mind and she would never sleep with him when he was drunk – but now, he wasn't so sure. He didn't know if there had been any other woman he slept with during a drunken party other than Lucia. He hoped not. He didn't even know how Lucia happened. It shouldn't have happened in the first place because if Effie was there, she would usually haul him back to the Penthouse at the first sign on him being drunk. He had embarrassed her far too many times that she had learnt when to whisk him away from the public eye.

Except on that particular night, he vaguely recalled Effie leaving the party earlier than he did to run some last minute issues through their itinerary with Cinna before they returned to Twelve for the Harvest Festival the next day.

Haymitch ran his hand through his dirty locks. Miraculously, Erasmus' crying had toned down to quiet sniffles. This child was a mistake but he was here and Haymitch had to be responsible for him now.

He saw no other option. Effie was the only person he could think of. With that in mind, he left his house with Erasmus to make his way over to Peeta's.

"I'm gonna have to borrow your phone," he told Peeta. "Watch over him for me. Make sure he doesn't knock his head on some furniture or somethin'."

He used to memorise her phone number but she moved, he heard. Peeta scrawled her number on a piece of paper with shaky hands. Haymitch pretended not to notice the tremors, the least he could do for the boy.

Haymitch rubbed the back of his neck as the phone continued to ring.

"Effie Trinket speaking," the familiar voice came on the other line just as Haymitch was about to hang up.

"Thought you weren't ever gonna answer, sweetheart."

"Haymitch," she breathed out in disbelief. "Oh my, what a surprise! What's so special about today? Are pigs flying outside?"

"Sarcasm isn't your strongest suit, sweetheart."

Effie laughed.

"It's really good to hear your voice, Haymitch. You didn't call me because you're in trouble, are you? It was always to bail you out back during the days."

"Ah, nothin' of that sort and so what if I did call you to bail me out? You willing to make a trip here all the way in Twelve?" he asked. "How are you doing? You okay?"

Effie had been stubborn. She wanted a shot in the Capitol. She wanted to try and rebuild her life in the Capitol, and even if Peeta had said that it was difficult where she was, he wanted to hear it from her.

There was a pause over the phone, some hesitation, before she slowly began to warm up to the conversation. She told him about her life in the Capitol and about the small house she managed to rent after her apartment was destroyed.

"I was lucky to find someplace to live given the circumstances. Others not so. There are shelters set up here," she informed him and at least he knew that Lucia wasn't lying about shelters in the Capitol. "People stay in the shelter until they can be placed somewhere or they find some suitable housing."

She told him about looking for a job, and all the job hunting she was doing. Haymitch asked her about the situation in the Capitol because a part of him wanted to know if Lucia's claim that it was dangerous to raise the boy there was true. As it turned out, she wasn't lying about that either because Effie wasted no time telling him about the unrest in the many pockets of the once grand city. There were restless Capitol citizens who pinned the difficulties and the hardships they found themselves in on the rebels for destroying their way of life. There were disgruntled district people still holding grudges over the Capitol for the Games. They were no co-existing very well.

"It'll take time," Haymitch said gruffly. "The wounds are still fresh but soon they'll learn to move on. They got to. I'm not surprised 'bout the hostility right now. We can't expect them to hold hands and be good friends."

"You're right, of course. Now, that's enough about me. What about you, Haymitch? How are you doing? You don't sound drunk, which I must say, after this unexpected phone call, you sober is a surprise in itself."

"Can't afford to right now."

"Oh, yes, the inflation is affecting the prices of liquors too, I supposed," Effie remarked, misinterpreting what he meant. Haymitch didn't bother to correct her. There were more pressing matters at hand.

"There's a reason I'm calling. I got somethin' that might work out for us both. I could use your help. You're looking for a job and I…. I've got my hands full of… Well, I could do with some help."

"Help? What kind of help?"

"I'll pay," Haymitch said. "I ain't asking your help for nothing. You need a job, don't you?"

"You're going to…. You'll be my employer, then?" she laughed lightly. "Haymitch, be serious now, please."

Haymitch pressed the receiver against his shoulder, muffling any sound from his end.

"She thinks I'm joking," he mouthed to Peeta. He took a deep breath and placed the receiver back on his ears. "Do you want it or not, sweetheart? I'll just call someone else otherwise."

He hoped it would not come to that because he really had no idea who else to call. There were probably agencies in the Capitol providing professional services but he wasn't sure if they were still in business after the war. Besides, he would feel better with someone he knew than some stranger.

"Don't do that," Effie said. "I didn't think that you were being serious. What does… Can you tell me more about what you need from me so I'll know what to except? What's the job scope?"

Those were valid questions. He would asked them, too, if someone were to offer him a job. It wouldn't be wise to accept a job blindly but still, Haymitch hesitated. Effie was a curious person by nature and simply telling her that he needed her to be Erasmus' carer would only result in more questions. Haymitch felt that it was best to have the conversation in person.

"It'll be easier if you can come to Twelve. We'll talk more 'bout it. You alright with that? Nothin' dangerous or anythin' of that sort, I swear. Can you get on the next train to Twelve, sweetheart?"

"Ever since the Rebellion, my schedule is considerably free, so yes, I'm able to catch the next train but, just a few questions, if you please? I need to know if I accept this job you're offering, am I required to take up residence in Twelve? I don't think commuting daily from the Capitol will work. The journey itself takes hours."

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose. If she didn't find the next bit of what he was about to tell her slightly daunting than it meant that he still had a shot with hiring her.

"I would actually require you to….," he cleared his throat, "… to commit. I ain't sure how long but probably a while and yeah, you'd best be stayin' here, sweetheart. I can set you up with Katniss or Peeta, they have spare rooms and their house is probably much cleaner than mine. Katniss could use some company, too."

"Oh," said Effie. "Well, like I said, I don't have any commitments here so I don't think… I don't think there'll be any problem. If I accept this job, I do look forward to staying with Katniss or Peeta, it's always good to be with friends, don't you think?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "You should have come with us to Twelve when I asked."

"Haymitch," she sighed. "I had to try. But please, let's not get to that, we've had that conversation before. Can't you at least give me a brief idea of what this job's about? You seem… secretive."

It wouldn't be fair to make her travel all the way to Twelve without telling her anything. She should at least have a vague idea of what to expect. He didn't have to tell her everything but just enough for her to make an informed decision if making her journey down to the district would be worth her time.

"How good are you with kids?"

There was a pregnant pause on the line which gave Haymitch the impression that he might have asked a sensitive question.

"Only between the ages of twelve to eighteen, and even so, I didn't think they ever did like me very much," she replied quietly with small voice.

Haymitch groaned. _Great,_ he thought, the conversation was dangerously moving to the Games and he didn't need that.

"What about younger than that, sweetheart?"

"How young?"

His eyes strayed to Erasmus.

"Younger than five," he informed her. Younger than five didn't sound as scary and as daunting as compared to telling her younger than two, and he sure as hell didn't want to scare Effie off.

"My niece was 8 years old. She was the only – She was 8 years old but I have watched her grow, does that answer your question?"

Her niece, of course, how could he have forgotten that? Haymitch almost wished that he had not asked that because Effie went quiet at the other of the line. Snow had executed her sister, her sister's husband and their eight year old daughter when Effie fled to Thirteen with him. Sometimes he thought she blamed him for that. After all, he had given her no warning and no time to prepare herself and keep her family safe, which would have been suspicious to Snow anyway.

"Your job would mainly involve a kid," he said. "I know how… how surprising that sounds, and it's probably not the kind of employment you're after, but I'm willing to pay. I still have my monthly Victor stipends, not that much, but I've got somethin' and we can negotiate payment."

"I – "

"Look, sweetheart, I haven't got anybody else," he said truthfully. "Don't say no. At least come over and… Just come over, we'll talk then."

"A… child? You need my help with a child?" Effie repeated. She was quiet, probably thinking about it. And his desperation must have been apparent because Effie said, "I'm sensing there's a story there, and I really do need a job."

"There's a hell of a story there," a small smile tug at the corner of his lips

"And," her voice was teasing, "your money would be better off going to me than the liquors! I'll start packing, and if I leave tonight, you can expect me to arrive tomorrow, sometime around late noon. I'll see you, Haymitch."

* * *

><p><em>I hope to update Behind Ruins weekly so updates will either be on a Wednesday or on a Friday of the week. <em>_There are questions about the mother which would be clearer in the next chapter._

_Thanks for reading and leave a review!_


	3. Effie Arrives

**Chapter 3**

The town did not sustain as much damage as the Seam during the bombing and as such, was the first area in Twelve where the cleaning, clearing and rebuilding was taking place. Peeta wandered into town, walking through the ruins to get to his family's bakery. He came back with several things that he could salvage including a thin mattress he claimed was for Erasmus. He had dusted it, cleaned it and aired it under the sun before dragging the mattress into Haymitch's living room.

Erasmus watched curiously, inching towards Peeta when he patted the mattress and beckoned the toddler over.

"For you," Peeta told Erasmus. "You sleep here now, okay?"

"Thanks," Haymitch said.

Haymitch's own bed was dirty and stained. The extra mattresses in the guest rooms in both their houses were much too heavy to be carried over and too big to fit into the living room without blocking the way. The mattress Peeta found was a good fit and since it was on the floor, the risk of having Erasmus rolling off Haymitch's bed while he sleep was eliminated. For the past few days, Haymitch had taken to lining pillows around the parameter of his bed when the baby was asleep, only to discard them all on to the floor because he feared that when he looked away, Erasmus might suffocate on it.

If he was a paranoid man before, it only grew worse with the baby around. He began to worry about the littlest of things. At times, he found himself checking just to see that Erasmus was still breathing and he considered it a victory when a day went by without the child getting hurt. Haymitch was afraid of falling asleep lately, not because of the nightmares, but there was an irrational fear that someone might break in and harm the child, the same way his family was harmed.

There was a reason he never wanted a child. His questionable ability as a father notwithstanding, he didn't think anyone would be safe with him. It was dangerous. _He_ was a danger but now that Erasmus was here, the time for "I never wanted a child" was long gone. There was only one thing he could do and that was to make sure that this boy would be safe, and that meant, getting someone that could actually help him with this child's well-being.

The boy trusted him. Haymitch need only look at the way Erasmus stared up at him with his grey eyes, expecting Haymitch to be able to provide for him, care for him and hold him safe. That small innocent life knew nothing about his past and what he had done, and all he wanted from Haymitch was to be cared for. It petrified him to be placed in such a position. Nobody should ever trust him that much.

Those thoughts swirled at the forefront of his mind as he lay on his back, an arm thrown over his eyes with Erasmus next to him. He was finally asleep, much to Haymitch's pleasure so when there was a loud resounding knock on his front door that broke through Haymitch dark thoughts, it startled him. Haymitch cursed under his breath at the disturbance.

"Hello, hello," Effie trilled, smiling widely up at him.

Haymitch flinched at the way her voice reverberated around the house. His eyes darted to the sleeping child.

"Shush," he covered her mouth. "I went to a whole lot of trouble putting that kid to sleep. I ain't having you waking him up."

"Well," Effie huffed, "that is no way to treat a friend. Who is this 'kid' whose sleep I am disturbing?"

"_The_ kid – the one you're here for."

"You've always had a penchant for being mysterious," she laughed lightly, referring to all the hiding and the lying he'd done during the Quell. "I've been thinking about what you've told me over the phone – really, Haymitch, are you not going to help me with my luggage? – and I really can't imagine who it might be! Annie has yet to give birth. It can't be hers. It's not Peeta's or Katniss' either, that much is obvious. I, for one, would have been informed if Katniss was pregnant. Is it one of the survivors in Twelve?"

"Couldn't have left that luggage over at Katniss', could you, sweetheart?" he grumbled. "Only one luggage?"

"The rest of my belongings were destroyed in the fire," she waved her hand dismissively. Haymitch noticed how her eyes dimmed slightly before it passed and she smiled again. "I've packed all I had. I don't imagine that the job offer would be something I would reject and – oh," she broke off as her eyes fell on the sleeping child in the living room.

Effie took a step towards Erasmus but Haymitch grabbed a hold of her arm. He nodded towards the kitchen, indicating his intention for them to converse away from the sleeping baby.

"That child needs a crib – a proper place for him to sleep in," Effie told him, glancing back over her shoulder to look at Erasmus again.

Haymitch grunted something unintelligible. Peeta had told him the same once before but there was simply nowhere in District Twelve for him to purchase a crib. Perhaps he could scavenge for one but it did not sit right with him to use a crib that belonged to a child who must have perished during the war.

He took a mug from one of the cupboards. It was covered with dust and grime so he made the effort to wash the mug before filling it with water. Haymitch handed it over to her.

"Best I can do right now," he muttered, pressing the mug into her hand. "I'll see what I can do 'bout getting you something else."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Perhaps some tea or coffee would not go amiss. I saw that there are several makeshift shops in the town area selling the basic necessities. It would do good to restock your kitchen, something better to offer your guests."

Only Effie Trinket would sit in his kitchen and tell him the kind of beverage to offer his guests. Years of familiarity had made her comfortable enough to tell him about the state of his kitchen.

"The baby outside… Does he have anything to do with this job offer you're giving me?"

No small talk, straight to the point. Better for him, he supposed. He was never one to excel in mindless chatter.

"Yeah," Haymitch scratched his jaw, thinking for a moment on the best way to tell her. He pulled a chair and sat in front of Effie. "His name is Erasmus and your job is to…" he cleared his throat. "If you accept the job, you're going to be handling that kid."

Being an escort for Twelve meant that Effie was familiar with the names District Twelve people gave to their children, and Haymitch was certain she noticed that Erasmus was not a common District Twelve name but she kept it to herself.

"Handling?" Her brows crinkled. "You want me to care for him, am I getting this right?"

He nodded.

"I see. I am being hired in the capacity of a… baby sitter? How many hours per day do you require me to work?"

_Hours?_

Haymitch tilted his head. He didn't need her here for just a few hours. He needed her to be available at all times for the boy. There seemed to be a misunderstanding between them.

"I need you more than just to babysit that kid, I need…" Haymitch inhaled sharply, his chest rose as the air rushed into his lungs. "He's my kid."

There he said it.

There was no point keeping it from her. At some point in the conversation, it was bound to come out and it was better to get it out of the way.

Effie's eyebrows shot up in surprise but the confusion quickly won over.

"I beg your pardon? I think I heard you say that he's your … Did you… adopt a war orphan, Haymitch?"

"He's _my_ kid," he repeated, watching her reaction carefully. "As in, I was responsible for his existence."

Haymitch counted the seconds between Effie trying to process what he just told her and she understanding its meaning. Her eyes widened, hand flying to her mouth as she stared at him.

"He's your son?"

His fingers clenched into a fist but at least, he had stopped flinching whenever someone said 'your son'. Peeta used it often, probably to desensitize him to it, and Greasy Sae referred to Erasmus the same way at times. Katniss referred to him as 'the boy' but she had only met him once, yesterday night, when she finally stepped out of her house to knock on his door just to ask why there was the sound of a child crying coming from inside so he doubt she remembered his name.

"Yes," he gave her a curt nod. "So you understand where I'm going with this? I don't need you to be here for a few hours, sweetheart, I _need_ you. I think, it's gotta be more comprehensive than just babysitting him. I don't know – I've never had to do this."

"I think it was much easier when you hired me as your escort," she said out of the blue.

That unexpected remark made him smile because he remembered that day. He was with Caesar and his old escort, interviewing applicants when Effie walked in. Caesar was only into his second interview question when Haymitch, bored out of his mind and itching for a drink, had snapped – "what does it matter? They're all the same – just hire this one already." He thought it would be over the moment he agreed to the new escort except Effie had insisted on talking about the terms on her employment, and Haymitch decided then and there that she was going to be difficult.

Effie leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on the kitchen table.

"I'm not asking as your potential employee, I'm asking as your friend, someone who has known you for thirteen years."

"Fine," he leaned back in the chair, resigned. "Ask your questions – if that's going to convince you, then go ahead."

"I don't need convincing. I just…. I'm concerned, Haymitch, and slightly curious."

"I said go ahead. Ask me."

Her questions came in a torrent.

Did he bring Erasmus from the Capitol when he left with Katniss? Who is the mother? How old is the boy?

The best so far was, "did you leave your son in the Capitol while you fought a war? Please tell me you didn't do that, Haymitch!"

"What do you take me for? A heartless bastard?" he snapped at her. "I didn't know 'bout him until recently, three days before I called you, if you want me to be more specific."

"How so? How could you not know your son?"

Haymitch leaned back in his seat, exhaling loudly.

"Y'know back in the old days, before there were peacekeepers, there were detectives in their police force. They ask questions - kind of how you're asking me right now – very detailed, very intrusive. Think you might make a good one," he told her with a straight face.

"Or I could just be a lawyer," she shot back.

Haymitch blinked, surprise at her retort before smirking in her direction.

"The last night of the Victory Tour at Snow's Mansion, you left me at the party, didn't you? You went off with Cinna?" he asked, seeking her confirmation. When she nodded, Haymitch continued. "I don't remember much 'bout that night but there was this woman, supposedly, her name's Lucia…."

There was nothing much to tell since he himself couldn't remember but he told her about Lucia appearing at his house with Erasmus in tow. He explained Lucia's situation in the Capitol leading to how he ended up with Erasmus.

"I did the math," he cradled his head in his hand. "His age adds up - that night of the Tour to being born few weeks after the Quell and up till his age now after the war. He's got to be mine. You haven't seen him awake. His eyes… Sometimes I think he isn't mine but it's like staring in the mirror, Effie."

"There are tests that you can take, if you're in doubt," she tugged his hand away from his face. "But she's been truthful so far – everything she told you about the Capitol is true. I don't think she would lie about his parentage, Haymitch. What would she gain by it?"

He pressed the palm of his hands on his eyes.

"We've slept together. I've never gotten you pregnant," he mumbled. "One night, just _one_, and things are so fucked up!"

"Haymitch!" she gasped. "Your son is not - pardon me for using such language - fucked up."

She winced and Haymitch snorted, amused.

"I didn't say he was but this situation is."

"I'll tell you why you have never gotten me pregnant. I've never slept with you while you were drunk. Light headed, maybe, but never drunk. I made sure you had condoms on. There was never any worry about me getting pregnant anyway because I couldn't -"

She broke off midsentence, looking ashen.

"Couldn't what?"

"Oh, nothing important," she waved him off. "You are hiring me as his nanny, yes? I believe that's more inclusive than a baby sitter. From what I understand, you need me to be with him most of the time."

He wanted to ask more but Effie had already circled the conversation back to the topic of her employment.

"A nanny… Yeah. That's… I need you to be here full-time. I need you to be able to commit more than just a few hours 'cause I can't….,' he gestured helplessly to the living room.

"Very well," she nodded. "How long do you think?"

"How long what?"

"How long will you require me to be here? Six months? A year? It's something I need to know so I'll be able to plan ahead."

"I – I can't tell," he said truthfully. "I ain't sure myself."

"Did she tell you anything before she went back to the Capitol?"

"I gotta fix my phone," Haymitch said distractedly. "Said she'll call to check in, to talk to the boy or – "

"Erasmus," Effie interrupted. "I've been here talking to you for the past hour and you've always referred to him as 'the boy' or 'the kid'. He's your son, Haymitch," she winced despite herself, "and your son has a name."

"- make a trip to Twelve if she can afford it. She's gonna try looking for a job and get herself a roof over her head. But if you're having difficulties looking for a job yourself than I don't know how long it's gonna take her. Once she's settled down, then I guess, she'll come back for the … Erasmus."

Effie pinched her lips, her brows furrowed together.

"Haymitch," her voice was soft, tinged with worry. "Will you be okay with that - for her to drop Erasmus on you and then take him away after? I don't think - "

"What do you want me to do, Effie?" he hissed. "That's her baby out there."

"It's yours too," she said quietly. "It's your child _with_ her."

Haymitch's fingers twitched. There was something in the way she said it that didn't sit right with him.

"I don't know her. I know nothin' about her. The only thing we have in common now is that boy sleeping outside."

"When that day comes, I don't think it will be easy for you."

"Yeah well, that's gonna be a long way away from the looks of it. So you're in or not?"

"Yes," Effie nodded, smiling. "Just… Just one thing, Haymitch, something you need to understand. Hiring me doesn't mean that your duty to your child is over. I'll help you where I can with his feeding and changing of diapers," Effie wrinkled her nose slightly at that, "and such but it doesn't mean you're completely free of him. You can't wash your hands off him. That's not how it works."

Just like that, Effie Trinket had turned the tables and state the terms out for him. He thought that if there were to be conditions to an employment, he should be the person making them.

"You're his father, whether or not you've accepted it, and he needs you regardless of my presence or anyone else' presence. That's something you have to figure out on your own – how to be a father. The other things – preparing his bottles, bathing him, feeding him – are things that people can teach you but nobody can teach you how to be a parent unless you spend time with him."

Haymitch shifted in his seat.

He didn't know where or how Effie got the impression that he was going to abandon the child. What did she take him for? Sure, he never wanted a child but now that there was one, he wasn't going to shirk his responsibilities. If he was, he wouldn't have bothered hiring anyone for Erasmus. He would still be living under the same roof with his child and it would be quite a feat to ignore someone in the same house.. Effie would need to rest at some point and it would be up to him to take over.

"You're full of surprises," he smirked. "How you even came up with that impressive speech is beyond me. I've always pegged you for someone who's more concern about the latest fashion than about parent –"

Effie huffed.

"It's becoming evidently clear that when it comes to me, you've only barely scratched the surface," she said airily.

"If I didn't know any better, sweetheart, I would have thought you've been spending a fair amount of time with Johanna Mason – when did you get so feisty?"

She ignored his jibe.

"I had a niece, Haymitch. I think you're forgetting that. I used to babysit her on some weekends," she smiled sadly at the memories. "I watched my sister interact with her. I watched her husband be a father. I learnt a thing or two."

Haymitch nodded.

"That's good enough for me. You can start today, yeah?"

He tried not to sound desperate but the clock on the wall informed him that Erasmus was bound to wake up from his nap soon, and Haymitch was exhausted. He wanted a nap himself. An hour would be a blessing.

"So eager," she teased. "Now, first thing first… A lot of things in this house need fixing. It's hardly suitable for a child. It needs to be safe proof. We should start a list and work from there. There's the baby crib that you need to get. I'm not sure how you're going to buy it with this situation right now but please, think of something. We also need to – oh, dear heavens! Haymitch your kitchen is in a deplorable state!" she exclaimed as she pulled the door to the fridge to find that things had gone bad inside.

Even Haymitch wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Those were things from before the Quell reaping. Hazelle cleaned it while she was working before the whole place went to shit," he tried to explain.

She shot him a look to say that he had been home for more than a month and there was more than enough time to clean.

"It ain't my fault," he said defensively. "I never had to get nothin' from there - got my food from Greasy Sae whenever she dropped by Katniss' and Peeta gives me bread. I've got some bread out front if you're hungry."

"I'm putting you in-charge of clearing the mess in there," she waved her hand. "I'm not coming anywhere near that fridge or touching anything from inside."

"Now, listen here, sweetheart, I don't think you get to boss me 'round like that. You ain't my employer, see, and I got you to look after the kid, not the mess in my kitchen and – "

"Very well, I shall put the blame squarely on your shoulders if Erasmus has a bad case of food poisoning because his father is too lazy to – what's that?"

"That," he said, "will be him crying. Ready?"

Whether or not she was, his hand was already at the space between her shoulder blades, guiding her out of the kitchen.

Effie Trinket had a job to do.

XxX

"He's just surprised to wake up and see there's nobody around," Effie crooned, kneeling on the mattress to attend to Erasmus. "Isn't that right, darling? It's okay now - we're here."

Effie rubbed her hand up and down his back in a soothing gesture. Erasmus responded to the touch. He opened his eyes, watching Effie curiously under those long eyelashes. Her breath hitched. Her gaze cut to Haymitch. He wasn't wrong when he said that it was like looking in the mirror.

Erasmus raised his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it but the crying had died down to quiet sobs. His cheeks were red and his face was wet. Effie wiped away the tears with such gentle movements.

"You're a sweet, handsome young man, aren't you? Don't cry now. It's okay, darling, don't cry. You're going to be just fine."

Haymitch dropped to the sofa in front of them, watching Effie interact with the boy. It was strange how he felt like an intruder in his own home, imposing on a private moment between those two.

He stared, fascinated at the sight of Effie with a toddler in her lap. This wasn't the woman he worked with. This wasn't the Effie he knew. He had never seen this side of her. Children generally gave her a wide berth. Children feared her here in Twelve and to see a child being comforted and responding to it was … odd. Effie did not look as awkward as he was with Erasmus.

"You're a good boy," she smiled, settling the boy back on the mattress. He sat, staring with some interest at this new stranger. Effie reached out and took his palm in hers, shaking it like an adult would. He giggled; a sound that still made Haymitch paused in wonderment when he heard it.

"I'm Effie. You're going to be okay. You must be so scared to be some place you've never been before – away from your mother and from home. I'll tell you a little secret," Effie whispered but Haymitch heard it still. "I'm away from home too, so we'll figure this out together – you and I – and we're both going to be just fine."

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><p><em>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :)<em>


	4. Cleaning

**Chapter 4 - Cleaning**

If Haymitch thought life would be easier now that there was someone to help him with Erasmus, he was wrong. Effie was a horrendous task master. She was bossy and demanding which shouldn't really surprise him since she had always been that way but she was positively unbearable compared to before.

With something to do and to focus her attention on, Effie seemed to be thriving. There was a sparkling light in her eyes that he had not seen when she first arrived in Twelve.

He glanced at her warily.

She was standing at the kitchen entrance with Erasmus perched on her waist, instructing Haymitch. She waved her free hand this way and that, her fingers pointing to areas that needed work.

"I think you miss a spot," she said. "You have to make sure the fridge is completely clean; wipe every grime and slime, and years of spillage from things I'd rather not imagine."

Haymitch muttered darkly under his breath; the words slave and hard labour spilling from his lips.

"What was that?" she asked sharply. "Would you like to repeat what you said?"

He gritted his teeth.

"Nothing."

Effie narrowed her eyes. The spoon in her hand hovered inches from the baby's mouth. The boy babbled something unintelligible, leaning forward impatiently to gobble the mixed vegetable puree that both Effie and Greasy Sae had prepared for him at Katniss' house.

"Oh, darling," she sighed, wiping the smear of food from his cheek. "Don't do that – we'll have some manners, yes?"

Haymitch rolled his eyes at that. Of course she would try to teach his son about manners. _Predictable,_ he snorted.

"I need a drink," he mumbled, and he hated the way he sounded as if he was pleading.

Effie pressed a glass of water into his hand. If looks could kill, she would have been six feet under.

"It's important to stay hydrated. Especially when you're working so hard," she smiled sweetly at him but he was convinced behind that smile was a person who intended to work him to death.

His back was aching and he could feel the pull in every muscle, especially his arms. The last time he had exerted himself this much was when he had to train for the Quell at Peeta's insistence.

"That's right – I've been working hard. Since I woke up," he pointed out. He eyed the mattress on the living room, thinking of how good it would feel to lie on it.

Effie had roused him at the break of day and he had been made to clean his room. His bed sheet was stripped off from the mattress and left to soak in the bathroom. He hoped she didn't plan to make him wash that. She could do the washing, surely?

Haymitch had grumbled and growled, arguing with her that it wasn't necessary to change the covers or the sheets. Effie had gasped, a look of horror crossing her face as if he just told her that she had been fired. He resisted the temptation.

"Be serious now, Haymitch," she scolded. "At some point, Erasmus would want to sleep on this bed with you and I will not have a child sleep on dirty and stained sheets. I believe the concept of hygiene is not foreign to you?"

When that was done, they had moved on to other, equally terrible things. Effie's inspection of his house revealed an unused empty room next to the guest bedroom. She promptly declared it as a nursery for Erasmus.

Effie rambled on about the room needing to be cleaned and dusted, maybe repainted. He had turned a deaf ear the moment he heard the word 'redecorated'.

"He needs a crib," she reminded, pointing to space in the room. "Over there?"

He had sighed, loudly and on purpose, just to let her know how insufferable she was.

"You will see to it that he has a proper place to sleep, won't you?"

"Yes," he took a swig from his flask.

She didn't question him any further except to tell him that the sooner they get the room ready, the better because the living room was hardly a good place for Erasmus to sleep in. She had helped him with the dusting while he cleaned the window when Erasmus had woken up and she had to attend to him.

When she returned, Effie found him lounging on the sofa, a drink in hand. She made a disapproving noise.

"I just sat down!" he thundered. "The damn seat is not even warm yet."

"Good for you," she said. "I haven't sat down since I woke up this morning. I've been on my feet but do you see me complaining?"

"What do you want, woman? I've already cleaned the room."

"That's excellent! Now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned, too. You haven't forgotten what I said yesterday, did you? Your refrigerator is in an appalling state. It has to be cleared out so we can fill it with food! It's a busy, busy day today, Haymitch, no time to rest!"

That was nearly an hour ago and he was still here, a rag in his hand, scrubbing. He wanted Hazelle. He never wanted anyone more than he wanted Hazelle Hawthorne at the moment. She would do the cleaning better than he could. He missed having a housekeeper around. Hazelle was a good employee who didn't boss him around like Effie did.

He threw her a disgruntled look.

_I should cut her pay - that'll teach her,_ the thought crossed his mind for the third time that day.

He would never do that, of course. He wasn't petty – and he really needed her for Erasmus - but thinking about it gave him some satisfaction.

It took him another hour to clean the entire kitchen but Effie came over to assist him after she had put Erasmus to sleep.

"He's already asleep?" he asked, surprised. "How'd you get him to take a nap that fast?"

"I told him a story," she answered simply, standing next to him by the kitchen sink.

Effie dried the mugs, plates and utensils that Haymitch had dug out from some corner in his kitchen cabinet. He handed her a plate, their fingers brushed against each other.

His eyes lingered on her curiously as he asked, "a story?"

"Mhmm," she hummed. "I'll dry the rest of these. You should take a rest."

Haymitch was out of the kitchen before she could breathe another word.

When she walked into the living room a few minutes later, the sight of Haymitch lying on his stomach sound asleep next to his son on the thin mattress made her laugh quietly.

She must have worked him to exhaustion.

Effie stood there just watching them. It seemed bizarre, like walking in a dream, to see Haymitch next to a baby. She had known him for years and she never thought that this was something she would get to see.

_He has a son. How lucky of him. I could never have a son with him._

XxX

"Look at what daddy's making for you, darling," Effie cooed into the child's ear.

They were sitting at a safe distance away, watching Haymitch work and he pretended not to hear her just referring to him as 'daddy'.

It made the hairs on his neck prickled. It felt odd. All of this felt like someone else's life, not his.

"Greasy Sae said that they're clearing the streets this week because the main town is already done. So if you need more wood, she's going off in a while. I can let her know, get one of the boys in town to send you some wood."

"Still have enough," he answered, sawing a piece of wood to get to the right measurement. "I think I can work better if you just stop staring at me, sweetheart. Do you like what you're seeing?"

He smirked. She glared at him but that did nothing to hide the colour on her cheeks.

Effie did not realised that she had been staring but there was just something about the way the shirt clung to his skin, his hair falling over his face and the way his fingers carefully ran over the woods to make sure it had not splintered that was waking up feelings she did not want to think about at length at the moment. There was something inherently different. He wasn't like the Haymitch she was used to and yet, he was still the same person. It was interesting and exciting to know that after thirteen years, there were still things about him that she had yet to discover.

"Your daddy's really good with making things," Effie ignored Haymitch's jibe to talk to the child. "I don't see it often but I know it because it was his talent – wood carving, wasn't it, Haymitch?"

He scowled. He didn't need a reminder of the Games or anything related to it.

"He'll make you a nice and good crib to sleep in," she patted the boy's thigh. "Are you going to paint it when you're done, Haymitch? I think you should – it'll be beautiful."

"Can you just let me do my work? It ain't even finish yet and you're talking 'bout painting."

"Just planning ahead!" she laughed.

"Why don't you go inside? Put him to sleep or somethin'," he gestured.

"Your son just woke up. I'm actually waiting for Peeta. He said he wanted to paint a picture of Erasmus today. Isn't it exciting? In the afternoon, we're spending some time with Katniss. Would you like to join?"

Haymitch paused. He placed the saw down and raised his head to look at her.

"Are you sure 'bout Katniss?"

"Yes," Effie nodded. "She can't just stay in that house and keep to herself. It's not healthy. Don't worry, Haymitch. Katniss doesn't talk much but I think she likes your son. She's getting better, you know? She's improving."

XxX

The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and the house was quiet. Effie and Erasmus was with Katniss.

"That girl of yours is good on you," Greasy Sae remarked, placing a bowl of warm stew on the table for him. She surveyed the clean kitchen. "Look what she did here. She made you clean your house, looks better, boy. More homely. This place ain't a pig sty no more."

"Not my girl," he shook her head, brows furrowed. "She's my boy's nanny. She works here."

He didn't know what it was he said that made Greasy Sae chuckle as she looked at him as if she knew something that he didn't.

"I've seen you two last week when she was making you clean. Might have escaped your notice, but to someone like me, sure look like a pair of old married couple," she laughed in amusement, a joke that only she found funny because he didn't find the comparison hilarious at all. "Got you out of the house to get groceries too, I noticed. You're soft on her. You like her, eh?"

Haymitch grimaced.

"She's a friend," he mumbled. "I've known her the longest…. apart from you, old woman. And someone's got to get the groceries, might as well be me. I'm not going to send her out there when half the district is still in ruins with a baby in tow."

"She knows nothing 'bout cooking, that poor girl. I tried to show her a thing or two yesterday – she burnt the meat. Burnt it! A waste of the damn meat but it put a smile on Katniss' face."

"Lucky thing we've got you to do the cooking, don't we? And don't go cooking any of that wild dog soup - don't think Effie's digestion is built for that kind of thing."

"Worried, are we?" she grinned. "Y'know, I see your girl spend more time with that baby than I see you do. Can't keep going on like that, boy. He needs a father. You're his father, aren't you? Avoiding' him ain't gonna help."

He resolutely ignored Greasy's persistent use of "your girl" with reference to Effie.

"I ain't avoiding him. I'm just… He's a baby, I'm no good and I don't know what to do with him which is why she's here. The boy likes her. He's comfortable with her."

"He's gonna like you, too, if you try to spend more than just a few hours with him."

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><p><em>Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!<em>


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